Darkest Spirit
by Cap'n BlackRose
Summary: CHALLENGE ANSWER TO BLACKEST GRIM An unknown occurence forces Harry's ghost back thousands of years into the past. Guiding the founders and their budding school, he finds friends, another shot at life, and even love. Ghostly!Harry CONTAINS SLASH
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: ok, this is in response to Blackest Grim's challenge.**

**Never fear! Insane Dreams will not be left to rot! I just couldn't help myself. Not to mention Grim has oh so kindly written a response to my own challenge.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

WARNINGS: slash (femslash as well **being as Grim insists, but I'm not to sure how it'll come out. never written femslash before**), dark-ish!Harry, bad!Dumbledore, character death (kinda), and time travel.

**Any of the above not your cuppa? Be-gone! Flames will be used to keep me warm in my damn cold room where I write.**

The Cap'n's guide to her writing--

"C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me!" -Talking

_C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me!. _-Thoughts

/C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me!\\-Parsletongue

C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me! – book text

**C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me!"** –Memories/Dreams

* * *

Chapter: I 

All consuming pain, white-hot and ripping through his small body. Then, it slipped from his weary bones like it was never there.

With a groan Harry Potter sat up and brought his hand to his face, moving his glasses aside, rubbing his sore eyes. Slowly he opened his eyes and let out a panicked screech as he caught sight of the transparent appendage. Several deep calming breaths later, he checked his hand once more. Nothing had changed in the past five seconds. His hand was still reminiscent of a fogged window. Panicking once more, he reached for his wand, but got another nasty surprise as he discovered it was missing.

"What the hell? Damn it, I need a mirror or something!" Another shrill sound of distress slipped through his lips as a large full body mirror came careening at him.

"Dear, there is no need to be so twitchy or noisy." A soft voice chided him gently, laughter present in the gentle scold. "The muggles will hear."

Harry started to get to his feet, but found himself floating towards the ceiling. A startled gasp left his lips before he closed his eyes and tried to get down. When he opened his eyes once more he was on the floor once more, toes dipping into flagstones. "Who's there?" he called out once more, blushing at his horrid dealings with the situation.

"Right in front of you dear." The gentle voice called once more, laughter still present.

Harry looked at the mirror with wide eyes, "How did I summon you? I don't have a wand, and I'm not even corporeal."

A motherly face appeared on the smooth surface of the glass. She offered a kind smile. "You are a spirit love. One of great power at that. You can even do magic still!"

"No," Harry collapsed to the ground in a heap as realization hit him, eyes wide in shock. "How did…who…why am I…"

"Dead?" the mirror gently finished for him. "I know it's hard for you to accept this, but it's true."

Harry looked into the aged face the mirror produced of herself and he saw not pity as he suspected, but understanding. "Why am I dead?"

"Young one, I know not how you came to be here, or what happened to cause your current state. But I always find that thinking back to the beginning of a mess always helps."

Harry looked at the glossy surface blankly for a moment before looking down into his transparent, silvery hands, trying to remember. As he remembered, pearly tears started to rain down his cheeks.

**Harry stood looking at the Gargoyle statue in front of him. Dumbledore had called him and was very important as said in his note given to him by an awe-shocked first year Hufflepuff. He felt his patience thin as remembered why the Hufflepuff was so in awe of him.**

**He had finally defeated Lord Voldemort at the end of his seventh year, but at the cost of many loved ones' lives. The first to go down had been Remus Lupin at the silver hand of Wormtail. Harry had tried to hold back Tonks as she tried to rush towards the dead werewolf she had fallen in love with. He had not been able to hold back the grief stricken woman. She soon became the second death, soon to be followed by everyone in the DA and many Order members. It had been a hard battle, but he had soon discovered that the Death Eaters were ordered to not attack him. Tom wanted him to himself.**

**Dumbledore had done nothing to stop the deaths of many innocents. He didn't even try to stop a Death Eater from killing the head of Gryffindor who had been the man's wife.**

**Harry had lost it when a Death Eater had killed his lover, Draco. The Death Eater did not survive the blast of raw magic that had left Harry's wand in his grief. **

**Harry had a nasty shock in his seventh year when it was discovered that Tom was his father. They were never become a family. Too much in their pasts and futures prevented them. The death of his parents, a prophecy- later discovered as fake-, and a scheming old man. He completed the fake prophecy.**

**Harry never trusted anyone after the war was over. Not even the man he had once thought as his grandfather. But the old man had offered him a home and a job. Harry went back to Hogwarts.**

**He had now been working at the great castle for nearly five years. Though he loved his job, Hogwarts seemed empty without people he knew from his year still alive to liven his day. He turned into a shell. His eyes loosing what little light they had had after all the years of abuse and war.**

**-**

**Shaken out of his revere by some Gryffindors running past him, he smiled as they ran into a cushioned wall that had sprouted from the flagstones. Harry walked over to them, forcing his face to stay in a scowl as the younger boys gulped at they caught sight of their Head of House.**

"**What have I told you about running in the halls?" He said this in a calm but stern voice he had inherited from the head before him.**

**The three 4th years stared in shock at him, before one of them, Mr. Young, answered, "We're sorry sir, but we're late to the Defense Club meeting."**

**The Slytherin Heir frowned at them, "Three points off for each of you for rule breaking, and hurry up and get to your meeting; I would hate to have Professor Smith come to me about lateness."**

**Harry smiled at the eager nods before the children dashed off once more. How he loved his students. Shaking his head Harry remembered the reason he was in this wing of the castle. Once again he stood in front of the statue and spoke the password, "Chocolate covered Espresso Beans", and made his way up the spiraled staircase. Before he could even knock he heard the voice of the old headmaster telling him to enter.**

**Harry would later learn that he should just have ignored the small note as he battled against the old man for his life. Dumbledore had called him to kill him, saying that Harry had too much power. That the power would consume him, bringing forth a darkness not yet ever seen. The old fool had said Harry should thank him for saving the lives that Harry had given so much to save.**

**They were now fighting high above Hogwarts in their animagus forms, Harry a large black griffin, Dumbledore a grey Horntail Dragon. While they were evenly matched in power, the older wizard had more experience in battling then Harry did. Soon Harry was tiring, struggling to move out of the way from attacks. An attack from the world's most trusted wizard, and he was in a spiral fall towards one of the towers, to tired to remain a griffin, morphing into a human on the way down.**

**The last thing Harry remembered was the satisfied glint in Albus Dumbledore's eyes, and the warm power of the castle wrapping around him, and an immense pain in his back before darkness covered his vision.**

**He had fallen one hundred feet onto thespire of his beloved House's Tower.**

Harry gasped, pearly tears once more traveling down his cheeks, gently touching his fingers along the gaping hole and bloodied garments he was left with after his death. Albus Dumbledore had betrayed him because the old man had grown insecure in his standings. Yes, Harry had never been the lightest wizard available, but there had been no danger of him attacking anybody. He knew he should have seen it coming by the way the old man looked at him at meals, but never in his wildest dreams had he suspected this. Now he was dead and in a place he didn't recognize.

"Dear, will you be ok?" the concerned voice of the mirror called to him.

Harry quickly whipped his ghostly tears away and tore his hand away from his ruined chest, mad at himself for showing weakness, "I don't know if I'll ever be fine,"

The mirror gave him a sad smile. "My name is Monica. What's yours? I'm sure you don't want to be called love or dear constantly."

Harry smiled at the kind mirror; it had been a while since anyone had spoken with true kindness in their voice to him. "My name is Harold Riddle, you can call me Griffin or Harry if you wish, that's what my friends called me."

"Why did they call you Griffin, Dear?"

"I'm a griffin animagus."

Surprise and excitement appeared on her face, "Oh, can I see? Animagus around here aren't very common."

Harry's brows knitted, "I'll change if I can, if you tell me where I am."

"We're in a castle use by muggle thieves at the moment. Sadly, they stole me from my ancestors house."

"Sorry to hear that." He mumbled as he gazed about the room once more. "How long have you been here?"

"A few weeks I think. My family will be here to get me soon though. I have to much information about the family and magic for them to abandon me here." She quipped before raising her eyebrows expectantly at him.

Smiling at the expectant look Monica gave him, he took a deep breath and concentrated on his inner animal. "Well here goes nothing."

A few seconds later Harry opened his eyes after feeling his bones crack and rearrange themselves, to see shock on Monica's face. Opening his beak, a few high-pitched whistles and clicks were aimed at the mirror. He hasn't been in this form since before the battle with Dumbledore. Harry looked into the mirror to look at him self; a large ghostly silver Griffin stood where he once did, ragged hole and blood still present. Harry quickly transformed back to the sound of excited talk.

"That was fantastic! I've only ever seen four others with an animagus forms, but none of theirs were as great as yours!"

"Thanks." He said with a smile. "Who are the four you talk of, Monica?"

"One of my daughter's granddaughters and her three friends. Such talent they have." The mirror said with a smile of pride.

Harry smiled, "What are their names?"

"Helga Hufflepuff, her friends Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. Funny how she makes friends with people who are nothing like her. Godric for instance-" She stopped as she caught sight of the look on Harry's face, "You all right dear?"

"The founders of Hogwarts, Monica?" Harry felt lightheaded, amazed that he could still be shocked to the point that even his ghostly functions quit and that he was in the founder's time period.

Monica looked confused for a moment before she spoke, "Oh, dear they haven't founded anything yet, but they are planning on founding a school as soon as they find the right place. Now that I think on it, this castle would be rather nice once cleaned up and the muggles dealt with. But anyway! How did you know?"

And that's when Harry finally fainted.

* * *

"Harry! Come on boy! Wake up!" Monica whispered to the ghost floating above the floor. "Harry, the muggles are coming! They can't see you!" the mirror begged. 

He came to slowly, to the frantic words of Monica. "Muggles?" he mumbled as he came to, blinking up at the mirror.

"Yes muggles! If they see you, who knows what will happen!"

"If they see me maybe they'll leave us be." Harry grumbled as he slowly floated upright, shaking his head.

Monica's face twisted in thought and she smiled slowly. "What all can you do?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked warily, arching an eyebrow at the scheming object.

"You're idea is perfect! If we scare the muggles off, this castle can become the school Helga and her friends want to start so badly!"

Harry blinked rather dumbly at the mirror. "Let me get this straight. You want me to scare the shit out of these muggles, so that we can steal their castle?"

"Yes! Oh do hurry up and hide somewhere! They're almost here!" she whispered, grinning before allowing her face to fade from the surface of the mirror.

"God only knows why I'm doing this," he mumbled before he swiftly floated to the rafters of the room.

"You're hearing things, Eric." A rough voice sounded as the door opened.

"No I'm not! I swear, I heard voices!" Eric replied rather indignantly.

"Well then, who's yapping away up here? That mirror we stole? Or is it the mites?" the other man asked scathingly.

"Orson, I just want to check. This castle is huge. God only knows what all could get in here without us noticing."

"Like me maybe?" Harry screeched as he dropped from the rafters, a maniacal grin stretching his ghostly face.

Eric and Orson paled parchment white and then screamed as one. They both turned and tore out of the room, hearing the ghost following them, still laughing and screaming at them. They reached the entrance hall of the great castle and threw their bodies against the heavy oak doors, flinging them open and running into the night.

"NEVER ENTER MY CASTLE AGAIN!" Harry screamed after them, face twisted into a mask of anger. When the two were well out of sight, he started laughing. First it was a chuckle, then a snigger, and then great rolling laughs were pushing up from his stomach and out of his mouth. Still grinning, he floated back to where he had left Monica. "I think they're gone for good." He said with a grin.

"You needed that I think." She said wisely, wizened face grinning as well.

"Probably." He agreed. "Is there any way that we can speed up the process of the others finding you?"

"I did that yesterday. They should have located me by now and will be here within the hour."

"I see," Harry mumbled.

"You don't seem pleased with that?" she questioned, sure that the young ghost had been excited about meeting other wizards and witches, even if he was dead and they weren't.

"I'm going to explore." He murmured as he took off. "I'll show up sometime. Don't worry about me. I'm already dead." He said with a wry grin before he finally slipped through the wall.

"Poor thing," Monica whispered as she stared at the spot where he had disappeared. "He's trying to pretend he's accepted he's dead. But he really hasn't."

* * *

"MONICA!" Helga cried into the echoing corridors of the castle that the mirror's magic had led them to. 

"There could be other people here you know." A voice snapped waspishly to her left.

"Leave her be Salazar. We did readings on the building. All that they showed was some magic in the masonry. Big wow." Godric growled.

"Both of you shut up and help us look." Rowena demanded angrily.

Sulking, the two men closed their mouths and pulled out long wands and twitched them. "This way," they said at one, going to a corridor to the left, following the pointing of their wands.

* * *

Harry had heard the cry for Monica and had started to head back to where the mirror was, wanting to watch the founders when they found the mirror. Whilst he had been sliding through the walls, he had come to gripes with his death. There were ways he could bring himself back to life yes, but that required his body. And he very much doubted it had followed him through to whatever time warp he had been thrown in. But he was sure that if he delved further into the dark arts, he could create a spell or ritual or something that would give him a life back. The hard part was finding a wizard willing to help him that was strong enough. 

He reached the room where Monica was and floated in, silent as the grave, and ascended to the ceiling rafters once more. He saw Monica give him a look out of the corner of her frame and gave a small wave before secreting himself in the shadows.

The door gave a shudder as it was thrown open violently, a slightly plump witch hurrying forward. "Monica!" she called happily, rushing to the mirror.

"What if someone had been in here?" Godric yelled as he and Salazar pushed roughly into the room, jostling with each other. "What if you had just gotten hacked to pieces by some mad man?" He roughly shoved Salazar to the floor. The thinner man glared venomously upward and hissed a soft spell that had the burlier man toppling over, stiff, frown still firmly in place.

"Children!" Rowena barked at the two men, eyes flashing. She had opened her mouth to yell further when she was interrupted.

"No need to worry about that dear." Monica said to the fuming men. "Harold took care of the muggles."

Harry hadfound he had to struggle not to laugh at the two men. He continued to watch from his lofty vantage point, ghostly eyes gleaming with laughter. But when Monica anounced his prescence, his eyes widenedand all laughter fell from his face, hisghostly complexion paling even more.

"Who's Harold, what did he do to get rid of them, where is he?" Salazar demanded, getting up and releasing Godric from the spell, Rowena and Helga looking sharply at the mirror.

"I'm Harold. I just gave them, a little scare." He said with a twisted grin as he floated down in front of them, Monica's face smiling at them through the hole in his chest, framed by his silver blood.

* * *

**that's all folks. for now at least. do review and tell me oh so kindly what can be done to improve on this. oh and uh, don't expect huge chapters like this ever again. sadly, i cannot write long chapters. and yes, Grim knows i have tweaked the origonal required first chapter. i just hope she doesn't mind the amount of tweaking it underwent...**

**Cheers!  
The Cap'n**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm stunned by the response I got with only chapter one! I just want to say, thanks to all of you who commented and pointed out some things that I had not fully thought out yet. All of you guys help me so much!

I had several questions asked of me last chapter of Harry's name and whom he was going to be paired with.

--Harry calling himself Harold Riddle. Harry, seems more like a nickname than an actual name. Harold is more refined. And calling himself Riddle…you'll haffta wait for that answer. It won't show for a while, but it will be there.

--Who Harry is paired with (or not) has yet to be decided. The person will not be Draco though. So any persons not thrilled with the idea of DracoXHarry, chill.

* * *

The Cap'n's guide to her writing-- 

"C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me!" -Talking

_C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me!. _–Thoughts

:C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me:-Parsletongue

C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me! – book text

**C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me!"** –Memories/Dreams

* * *

"I'm Harold. I just gave them, a little scare." He said with a twisted grin as he floated down in front of them, Monica's face smiling at them through the hole in his chest, framed by his silver blood.

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

Helga gasped as she stared at the ghost of the young man before them, her eyes seemingly forced to the hole in his chest, and the organs writhing within, the movement of mock-life hypnotizing. Blanching, she felt the rush of unbridled emotions: anger, betrayal, yearning, anxiety, dark amusement, and a piercing sadness. It was too much for her. She keeled over, eyes fluttering shut. 

"Helga!" Rowena and Godric yelped, rushing over to the diminutive founder.

Salazar was appalled by the wound that evidenced a painful and sudden death, but still held the eyes of the laughing ghost. "Your name?" he asked quietly, ignoring Rowena and Godric fussing over their fallen comrade. _The woman has seen death and ghosts before. God only knows why a ghost is bothering her._

Harry cleared his throat slightly, ignoring how the action was not needed. "Harold Riddle." He said, looking them over. "You would be Salazar Slytherin. A pleasure to meet you." He smiled viciously. _So you're the bastard that helped spawn Tom,_

Monica cleared her throat, not used to being ignored by her new friend. "Harold dear," she said softly, confused and startled by her relative's reaction. "You didn't do anything, did you?" she glanced at Helga worriedly.

"Oh no, Monica!" Harry rushed to assure, seeing the eyes of three of the four founders on him. "I actually have no idea why that happened," he mumbled, a frown crossing his features as he folded his legs, assuming a sitting position five inches from the ground. "Of course, there's several reasons that it could be," he gently stroked his chin in thought.

Rowena scowled at the pensive ghost. "Monica, we need to get you and Helga home. Then Godric, Salazar, and myself have some business to attend to." Godric nodded in agreement, lifting Helga. Salazar just walked to the door, leaning against the frame. Harry just closed his eyes glumly and nodded, slipping through the flagstones.

"Oh! Dears! Not yet! I had this fantastic idea, and Harold here helped me!" Monica suddenly gushed. You could imagine her bouncing up and down. Harry stopped, his torso still in the room.

"What?" Godric snapped, shifting Helga's dead weight in his arms. "We have things we need to do."

"I told Harold about you all." She began. Four voices immediately rose in protest. "Hush all of you!" Monica snapped. "Thank-you. Now, as I was saying, Harold seemed very surprised when I mentioned whom you all were. And then about the school you wanted to build. He didn't seem very surprised about that though, and even mentioned a name of some sort. Though I imagine much wouldn't surprise him," she petered off thoughtfully.

Salazar cast a thoughtful glance at the ghost who had risen to float near the rafters.

"Anyway!" Monica suddenly said. "After all that, he keeled over in a faint! Imagine that! A ghost fainting!" she crowed.

Harry mumbled something under his breath that was surely obscene, being as his cheeks were slowly flushing the same color silver as the blood on his chest. He was rising faster and faster to nestle amongst the rafters.

Salazar allowed a smirk to cross his face, but Godric couldn't contain himself, and started laughing hard enough that he almost dropped Helga. Rowena was staring up where the ghost had hidden himself and looked like she wanted to ask him something. Or dissect him.

Monica continued, "Soon, I heard the muggles coming and managed to wake him. He woke and was quite grumpy. He was about to hide, but I had a sudden idea that was brilliant!"

Harry finally interrupted her, scowling. "Have Harry scare the shit out of them and let's steal their castle! Then, the founders can have a castle, for free (!), for their school." He snapped, dark silver still covering his cheeks.

Rowena started and so did Godric, having thought the mortified ghost still in the rafters. Helga was finally dropped to the floor where she lied and Salazar felt a smirk curling his lips at the livid ghost before them.

"Well," Monica said, "that's a crude way of putting it."

"Crude way my ass. You agreed with me without even batting an eye lash!" he barked to the now blushing mirror. He then turned to the founders. "You can have the castle. I don't care. But I'm staying. You better ask me about anything you want to do to _my_ castle." He growled, dropping through the floor faster than they could blink.

"Well, now that that's settled!" Monica chirped happily. "How about we get started cleaning the place up?"

-----

Helga didn't want to admit it, but Harold was bothering her. She had no idea why he had all of her senses going haywire. She had seen ghosts before and they had never bothered her to this degree. Ghosts with centuries old pasts so dark it made Salazar queasy to hear about it. But Harold, he was a mystery!

Salazar and him though, had formed an odd bond that could almost be described as a parasitic one. Salazar gleaned from Harry what he could about the castle, potions, and spells, and Harold…who knew what Harold got out of the stoic man that she had befriended. It had to be worth his time though.

"I suppose part of it is because both of them have chosen the dungeons as theirs'. They have to get along somewhat being as they share that part of the castle." She mumbled to herself as she absently flicked her wand, covering the tower walls with tapestries woodlands. "He does have fantastic ideas with what to do to the castle and the founding of the school," she frowned ever so slightly as she spotted a cobweb up in the tip of the cylindrical ceiling. "There's dust everywhere," she muttered as she continued to clean and furnish South Tower. Her house tower.

-----

Rowena gently placed the last book on the shelf, smiling in happiness as she looked around her. The library was massive. It was a combination of the family books of all four of them. She had been most pleased when Harold had pointed out the secret passage that led to East Tower. She had claimed that as her house tower.

-----

Godric grudgingly followed Harold up another flight of stairs. _He has good ideas. I'll give him that. But how is he so thorough with all the things he 'suggests'? I've yet to catch him at a loss for words when we run into a problem,_ "Where are we going?" Godric demanded when they stopped in front of a blank wall.

"Right here actually," Harold replied with a tight smile. "This would be a fantastic place for your house." He grinned, slightly less forced. "There's a view of the lake and of what will be our Quidditch pitch."

"Really?" Godric grinned at the thought. Quidditch was a new sport, but already was extremely popular with all the witches and wizards.

"Yup," Harry contained a snort when Godric had lit up at the thought of his house tower overlooking the pitch. "I'll just leave you to it then," he muttered as he sank through the floor, leaving Godric to explore West Tower.

-----

Salazar looked around at the last remaining tower. North Tower was not big enough. Nor did he really want to have to travel all the way to here from the Great Hall. Sure it would have the view of the Quidditch pitch, but it wasn't big enough! How was he to be able to house all the students he would receive AND have his quarters close by?

"I would suggest the dungeons if I were you," a soft voice said from behind him, as if the voice knew what he was thinking.

Salazar turned quickly and found himself string at the hole in Harold's chest. He frowned. "Must you always float above me? I really do not wish to see that," he sneered, shutting his eyes.

"Sorry," Harold said as he floated downwards a bit. "Better?" he asked as Salazar looked up at him finally. "I'm still not to used to the whole floating thing," he noted quietly as he glided to the window.

"Still not used to…" Salazar trailed off, his eyeswidening fractionally. They then narrowed in thought. "Surely you aren't stupid enough to have been dead for years and still not have figured out how to float properly." He sneered mockingly.

Harry whirled around, frowning. "Today is my first day dead," he barked angrily.

Salazar blinked in shock. He had expected Harold to be a young ghost what with the slip of the man's tongue, but this being his first day dead! "How do I know you're telling the truth?" he demanded.

Harry's frown turned from angry to withering. "For what reason would I lie about that?" he sneered briefly. "As said, I would suggest the dungeons. There's plenty of room down there. Go down the main stairs as if you're going to the lab. Take the first right, then two lefts. There'll be a wall on your right. A part of that is the door. Happy hunting."

Salazar watched as Harold slipped through the floor, off to do whatever ghosts did. "I just had to make him mad didn't I?" Salazar asked himself as he made the long trek down to the dungeons. "He may have been able to tell me a short-cut to the dungeons."

* * *

A/N: yes, not very long. But it was an update. Tomorrow I'm off to U of L for my practice camp before I fly out to Europe the 30th. After I get back the 15th at around midnight, is band camp the 17th. I won't be in any mood to write. This'll have to work for about a month. Sorry. I'll update in early august. Maybe end of July. So sorry to you all. I love you all :hugs and cookies to everyone: 


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: my dears! I'm so sorry for no updates lately. But! I'm making it all better! I'm updating. Grimmy, you better go update too!**

The Cap'n's guide to her writing--

"C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me!" -Talking

_C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me!. _–Thoughts or stressed words.

::C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me!::-Parsletongue

C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me! – book text

**C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me!"** –Memories/Dreams

-----

Salazar watched as Harold slipped through the floor, off to do whatever ghosts did. "I just had to make him mad didn't I?" Salazar asked himself as he made the long trek down to the dungeons. "He may have been able to tell me a short-cut to the dungeons."

-----

Harry was currently floating in the rafters of the potion lab. He had no idea where Salazar was, but he needed another page turned. "Go figure, I need something and the man is _no where to be found_. He needs something, and I'm always _conveniently_ right _next to him_." He growled, glaring at the page. "Damn it! TURN!" he yelled at the book, frustrated and sick and tired of reading the same page yet again. To his utter amazement, the page turned. Just like it did when he had been able to flip pages. Or when Salazar turned them for him. "How did I do that?"

"Looks like magic to me." Salazar mocked from the door. He had been in the hall when he had heard the mutterings from the open lab door. He had seen Harold's fit and had about gone to help the ghost, when the page turned. He hid his shock behind logic and sarcasm. Something he did quite well.

Harry scowled angrily. "If you're just going to mock me, I don't have to stay for this. You're on your own today." He groused, slipping up through the rafters until his luminescent body was gone.

"Damn you," Salazar hissed at the ceiling. He moved to the book that other had been reading and raised a brow in interest. Sure he turned the pages for the man, and hadn't questioned how it had gotten in his lab, but he never actually looked at what the ghost was getting into. _Body Rituals and Blood,_ well that was interesting. "What are you up to my foul tempered friend?" he murmured in thought, marking the spot in the book and moving to his cauldron.

-----

"I need stuff," Harry said, popping up next to Helga from the floor.

"Oh my!" she squealed when he appeared, a hand instantly going to her fluttering heart.

Harry bit his lip as he guiltily waited for the kindest of the founders to calm down. "I'm sorry Helga," he mumbled.

"It's quite all right dear." She calmed down once more and looked at Harry. "Now what do you need?" her head was already aching with the effort it took to control her gift and not pass out.

"I need some stuff for something me and Salazar are doing."

"What is it you need?" she questioned once more.

Harry nervously bit his lip once more. "I need a soul stone, a goat, and a dead body. A fresh wizard's corpse if possible." He rattled off quickly.

Helga blinked at the rather odd ingredient list. "For what?" she questioned slowly.

"Stuff," Harry mumbled.

"What sort of 'stuff'?" her headache started to throb.

"Are you going to help me, or am I going to have to bribe Salazar with something extravagant for a lousy goat and dead body?"

"What about the soul stone?" she questioned, wondering over the young man's sanity.

"I know where that is. I just need someone to pick it up for me." He said snootily.

Helga massaged her temples, feeling the headache start to stab at her mind. "I'll help." She muttered. "You have to find where these things are, and then tell me where they are so I can get them."

"Done deal! I'll be back later." He disappeared through the floor.

"God only knows how Salazar puts up with him," Helga mumbled, wondering what she had gotten herself in to. "I just volunteered to desecrate a grave yard and a body," she stared at the wall in astonishment as she finally registered just what had been asked for.

-----

Salazar stared at the book, stunned by what he was reading. "You crack-pot!" he roared at no one in particular.

"You shouting for someone?" Harry appeared next to Salazar, looking rather pleased with himself.

"What the hell do you think you're reading?"

"Nothing at the moment. Though I was reading that book you're currently waving about like a flag."

"You smart-ass." Salazar hissed at the ghost. "Do you know how many laws you've broken by just reading this?"

"Ghost," Harry pointed to himself, smirking. He then continued, "Do you know how many laws we're going to break by the time we're through with that book?"

Salazar blinked, not used to being volunteered for something by someone else. "'We'? What is this "we" you're talking about?" he demanded.

"We, as in you and myself, are going to get me my body back."

"I will do no such thing."

"What! Why?" Harry had thought the other man's curiosity would overcome the danger of having a death sentence hanging over their heads if caught. Well, only Salazar's if one wanted to be technical, because Harry himself was already dead.

"I don't want to die." Salazar explained simply.

Harry hung his head as he desperately tried to think of a way to get the touchy man to do this for him. "A pity then," he drawled, looking up at Salazar with hooded eyes.

"What?" he didn't like the look the ghost was giving him.

"Helga left an hour ago to get me a goat and a dead body. All I needed was for you to perform the magic and get a soul stone from the Chamber of Secrets for me."

Salazar stared. A stared some more. "You roped Helga into all of this?" he decided that it was a good time to stare some more. Of all the time he had known Helga, he had never managed to rope her into doing something as dishonorable as grave robbing. He was almost jealous and close to demanding how Harold had managed it.

"Yes, now I'm just going to have to tell her to go put things back. It's hard enough to steal the stuff, but putting it back," he trailed off thoughtfully.

"You can get her in serious trouble if she's found with a dead body!"

"Then perform the spell and there will be no dead body to get in trouble with." He explained this as if speaking to a rather slow child.

"FINE! Get out while I go retrieve the soul stone!" he stormed out of the room and to the girl's toilet on the second floor.

"Perfect," Harry cooed, whooshing through the floors to make sure Rowena and Godric stayed away from the dungeons that night.

-----

Helga was currently thinking of all the ways she would curse Harry once she got back to the castle. Problem was, he was a ghost. And things tended to go through ghosts. "Oh dear," she mumbled, ducking into the shadows of the graveyard, desperately trying to avoid the light of the grave keeper's torch. "No luck then," she mumbled, soundlessly sending a spell to the prowling figure. She winced when she heard him fall to the ground and scurried to the torch, picking it up and quickly stamping on the grass that had come in contact with the flames. "Time to get this over with," she mumbled, heading to the freshest grave there.

"Baa,"

She stopped, blinked, and looked over at the goat that had just voiced its complaint about being tied up to a grave stone. "Get over it. I don't want to be here anymore than you do." She muttered, banishing the dirt from the wizard's grave. "Harold had better appreciate this,"

-----

Salazar honestly had no idea why he was doing this for the meddlesome ghost. He dodged around a rat that had sprung rabidly at his shoe and sneered at the creature. ::Be gone,:: he hissed at it. The use of the snake tongue left the beast bereft of the last of it's sense as it fled down the corridor. "Why did I have to leave the soul stone down here? And how did Harold find out about 'here'?"

"The same way I found out about everything else." A voice mocked next to his ear.

He spun quickly, finding himself staring once more into the ruined chest of the young man. "That is revolting. Must you float so high?"

"Who would have thought, Salazar Slytherin is squeamish." He seemed to find a savage joy in that fact.

"Once you have a body, I'm going to take care to beat you within an inch of your life." Salazar threatened.

"I look forward to having you try." He grinned, quite pleased with the thought of a fight. "As for why you keep the soul stone down here," he petered off and was silent for an unusual amount of time.

Salazar looked at Harold when the ghost remained silent for an oddly long amount of time and hissed angrily at the parody of thought on his face. His eyes were squinted comically and he was hunched over on himself, chin resting on his fist. ::Damn you!::

::I love you too,:: Harold spat at him in return, before quirking a grin at his face and speeding off to the ceiling.

"I'll look forward when I can finally trap you somewhere and get answers out of you." Salazar groused as he finally reached the pedestal where he kept the stone. "And that time will be soon."

-----

He had left Salazar preparing the ritual room to the specifications of the book and he was waiting for Helga to get back. He had managed to lock Rowena and Godric in the Staff Room for the rest of the night, using to his advantage the sporadic sparks of magic he could produce.

"Baa,"

He grinned rather insanely as he heard the goat calling out and Helga's rather undignified muttering at the creature. "I see you're back." He stuck his head through the oak door.

Helga looked up, quite scared by the voice. Slamming a shield up over her gift she smiled tersely. "Yes I am." She pushed against the door, swinging it open, her head starting to ache dully.

"You could have waited for me to move,"

"You're the one that was in the way." She booted the goat through the doorway as she levitated a fresh corpse in front of her.

"I do hope you managed to occupy Rowena and Godric somehow. Where do I go?"

"Dungeons. And I locked them in the staff room." He grinned as he led the way to the room where he knew Salazar to be setting up.

"How pleasant of you," she mumbled. "Can we get started? I don't fancy stringing this out."

"Of course! Listen to Salazar while I go make myself comfy in the ritual circle!" Harry happily floated to the center of the circle and floated as close to the floor as he could without actually going through it.

"Why do we have a goat?" Salazar asked as he stared at the creature that was gnawing on his robes.

"Harold told me to get one for the ritual," Helga told him, pulling the goat off of the dark wizard.

"We don't need a goat. I'm sure Harold knows being as he's spent the last two weeks reading his damn illegal book in my lab!"

"You mean I stole that goat from some poor muggle farmer, and we don't even need it?" Helga was crushed. As if it wasn't bad enough that she had had to desecrate a grave yard, but she had stolen a goat for no purpose it seemed, other than Harold's twisted sense of humor. And he had locked Rowena up with Godric! Lord only knew what the man would do to her poor friend!

"I wanted the goat." Harry said simply. "I think I'll call him Tom. He has creepy red eyes and I think he has tunnel vision." Harry rambled, staring at the goat that was once more gnawing on Salazar's robes.

"You'll have a lot of explaining to do once we're through." Salazar glared darkly.

"Yes, yes, lets just get it over with!" He whined, snapping his eyes back to scowl at Salazar. "Mr. Stick-up-his-ass!" he grouched quietly.

Salazar ignored the idiot man and shoved the goat once more to Helga, erected a barrier, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth to start the ritual. Guttural sounds slipped from his lips as his hands formed patterns and runes in the air. A heady magic was filling the air in the barrier, surrounding Harold and Salazar. One last word of the strange language spewed from Salazar's mouth sounding more like a wet belch than anything even remotely related to a language of magic. "Disgusting," he muttered, feeling the need to wash his mouth out after having performed the spell.

"Fantastic," a voice drawled from the center of the room, from a fog that had accumulated without any notice, a solid body rising and walking towards the two founders and the goat.

* * *

**A/N: cliffhanger! Aren't I mean? Lol I will try to update within two weeks. But we all know how terrible I am when it comes to promising updates. Review and pelase tell me what you think!**

**Cheers!  
The Cap'n**


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I have a free day today, so I thought I might start on this and maybe get it up by Sunday (10/22) if all goes as planned. You'll find out in the bottom note how long it took me to write this…

The Cap'n's guide to her writing--

"C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me!" -Talking

_C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me!. _–Thoughts or stressed words.

::C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me!::-Parsletongue

C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me! – book text

**C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me!"** –Memories/Dreams

-----

Salazar ignored the idiot man and shoved the goat once more to Helga, erected a barrier, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth to start the ritual. Guttural sounds slipped from his lips as his hands formed patterns and runes in the air. A heady magic was filling the air in the barrier, surrounding Harold and Salazar. One last word of the strange language spewed from Salazar's mouth sounding more like a wet belch than anything even remotely related to a language of magic.

"Fantastic," a voice drawled from the center of the room, from a fog that had accumulated without any notice, a solid body rising and walking towards the two founders and the goat.

-----

Godric was currently slumped in his seat, out cold as he had been for the night. He had fallen asleep after any and all attempts to harass her were ignored or responded to with an angry spell. Rowena glared at him and rubbed tiredly at her amber eyes. She hadn't slept all during the night, to busy trying to break out of the room and go put Harold in a permanent grave. "Stupid idiotic dead man!" she hissed, glaring at the door once more.

"That's no way to talk about the person that's about to let you out," his mocking voice floated through the wood to her, causing her to scowl even more.

"Shut-up and let me out!"

"As the lady wishes,"

She had the strangest feeling that he was mocking her even with his polite response. She heard the lock click and instantly opened the door, expecting to see Harold floating in front of her, his ruined chest level with her face just to spite her. She was met though with the sight of a small good looking man with dark hair, bottle green eyes, pale skin, a jagged scar on his forehead, and a black eye. "Who the hell?" she blurted out.

"I'm injured Rowena. No pun intended." he grinned, the same self-satisfied smirk that Harold always wore on his face as he gently caressed the bruised skin around his eye. "The fact that you don't even recognize me now that I actually have a body,"

"Harold," she mumbled slowly, eyes widening.

"The one and only at your service." He bowed mockingly, his grin widening.

Rowena stared at the solid man in front of her and finally made the connections to the ghost that had haunted them for two months. "I always thought you were taller." She said wryly, tilting her head down slightly to look at him.

Harold scowled angrily. "If you keep mouthing off like that, I'm not going to be the only one walking around injured." He sneered.

"Fine," she said, scowling. "Where are the others?"

"I've no idea." His demeanor shifted back to one of self-satisfaction.

"What?"

"Salazar punched me and took Tom outside and Helga ran off to God only knows where. I halfway think she's on her way up here." He smiled charmingly at her.

Rowena narrowed her eyes shrewdly at him. "Why would Salazar strike you? Who, or what, is Tom, and how did you get here before Helga if she's coming here?"

"I know shortcuts." He grinned at her once more and turned on his heel and left.

"Harold!" she screeched at him before he left the hall, angry at his refusal to answer her questions. He only turned around, bowed, and tipped an imaginary hat to her. "Stupid man," she huffed, going to wake Godric up. She walked over to the chair where her fellow founder was sleeping in. "Wake up you idiot!" She barked, kicking the chair over.

"Huh?!" he grunted, sitting up sharply from the floor.

"We need to go find the others and talk with them."

"What happened?"

"I'll explain later."

-----

"Where is he?"

"Harold?"

"Yes Harold! Who else has everyone been searching for the whole day?"

"No need to yell at me Salazar. I haven't seen him since you struck him." Helga scowled at the taller man.

Salazar sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his finger tips and bridge of his nose turning white as he applied more and more pressure. "Where is the bastard?"

"Stop! You'll break your nose!" Helga scolded him, plucking at his thin wrist as she tried to remove his hand from his face.

"I'll go check the dungeons once more." Salazar growled, allowing her to remove his hand from his face. _I think I may know where the damn idiot is._

-----

Harry scowled, causing his bruised face to throb, and stared at the scorched wall. "What happened?" he mumbled, flicking his fingers slightly, producing an angry red spark. He then focused more on what he wanted and sent the spell spiraling to the wall with a flick of his wrist and fingers. The spell shot from his fingers a bloody red and then, when it hit the wall, turned a repulsive sickly green. A green that he knew only to well. "Why is this happening to me?"

"What's happening to you?"

Harry jumped rather violently at the voice and turned quickly. "Salazar," he greeted warily.

"What's wrong?" the man questioned again. He stared at the scorched wall.

"My magic. That's what's wrong."

"What's it doing that's so wrong?"

"Watch," Harry commanded, focusing on the spell he wanted. "Just for the record, what I'm about to perform is supposed to be a shatter hex. It'll be a rather bright blue."

"Get on with it then."

"Right," he focused and then flicked his wrist, a jet of bright blue light flying to the wall. On impact though, it turned a sickly green. "That's what's wrong."

"How did you do that?" he was stunned. "It should have been impossible for the magics to do that; especially at impact."

"That's what I've been trying to figure out."

"Have you tried verbal spells?"

"Yes,"

"Spells with a wand and with the incantation?"

"I have no wand with which to try that with."

Salazar fell silent and stared at Harold. He blinked when he saw the short man's eye. "I didn't realize you bruised so easily," he said with a smirk, stepping forward and running a thumb over the mark as he studied the harsh purple and black bruise.

He shivered at the touch. "Thank-you ever so much Salazar. Now, if you aren't going to be of help to me, leave me alone." He snapped in annoyance at Salazar's remark, jerking his hand up, yellow sparks leaping off his fingertips.

Salazar instantly backed up, staring warily at Harry's hand. "Calm down. You could kill someone if you got angry enough to cast a spell."

Harry's eyes widened, an alarmed look spreading across his face, and instantly turned around. "I'm as good as a squib. Only worse." He muttered bitterly, gazing at his hands and then at the blackened wall. "I should probably leave the castle now."

"What are you talking about?"

Harry turned quickly. "I could end up killing someone. You said it yourself. Look at what happened when I got in a knot over a little ribbing." he snarled, worry planted deep within his gaze.

"Just don't do magic." Salazar knew how hard it was not to do magic and felt like an idiot as soon as the phrase left his mouth. Doing magic was like breathing. And the glare Harold was giving him was telling him just how much of an idiot he was for saying that. "All right," he muttered, bringing his hands up defensively, "Bad idea, I agree, but you can't leave."

"Why?"

"We could help you. I'm sure if we told the others about it, they could help." Salazar forced Harry to turn around and look at him.

Harry squirmed uncomfortably under the scrutiny and firm grasp of the taller man. "Fine, whatever. But I haven't a clue as to what I can do around here until we figure out what's wrong."

-----

"Found him," Salazar called out as he entered the Great Hall, dragging Harry with him by the arm.

"What happened to you?" Helga cried out, hurrying over to Harold, gently touching his eye.

"Ah, that's from earlier, just for the record," Salazar mumbled nervously, inching behind Harold as the diminutive woman flicked her wand and healed Harold's eye.

Helga turned narrowed eyes to her fellow founder. "Salazar," she said warningly.

"He's telling the truth Helga. He hasn't touched me since that horribly painful punch earlier today." Harry then rubbed at his head pitifully. "I've had a headache for hours."

"Now Helga," Salazar said pleadingly when the matron's angry eyes turned to him once more. He turned his gaze to Harold and saw a smirk decorating the small man's handsome face. "Shut-up," he muttered.

::Pay back's a bitch.:: Harry hissed.

::Foul mouthed idiot.:: Salazar hissed in return, eye narrowing.

"Boys!" Rowena shouted when she noticed Harold tensing as if he were about to jump the taller man. "Both of you come and sit down and tell me why you ran off Harold." She demanded, her sapphire eyes glinting angrily.

"Yes Rowena," they both muttered, skulking to the table and sitting beside each other.

"Thank-you. Now, tell me where you have been."

-----

Rowena paced in her study, a frown creasing her brow. Harold had told her of the ritual that had been performed. She had not been happy to know that he had forced Helga into participating. Godric hadn't been happy about dark magic being performed in the castle. As unhappy as she was about the means, she was thrilled for Harold to have gotten his body back. The only problem that remained was that he could only cast killing curses. "What do we do? I've never heard of anything similar to this." She mumbled.

"Has Harry checked that book he got that ritual out of?" Helga mumbled from the small sofa.

"What?"

"Harry got that ritual out of a book he had been reading for a while. Salazar turned the pages for him," she trailed off with a happy smile at the thought of the dark founder doing something nice for someone else.

"Helga," Rowena coughed, sitting closely beside the shorter woman.

"Right! Well, Harold got that ritual out of the book. He said he needed a soul stone, a recently dead body preferably of wizarding stock, and goat. He later told me the goat was just because he wanted one. I'm beginning to think it wasn't."

"Why wouldn't he have used the goat in the ritual if it specified the use of a goat?"

"Maybe he didn't want to kill it." Helga smiled once more as she imagined Harold not wanting to slay an innocent animal for his own use.

"He's walking hell. Why wouldn't he want to cause strife and pain to anything he can come across?" Rowena spat angrily.

"You're just angry because he locked you in the staff room with Godric. No need to be spreading lies." Helga sharply pinched Rowena's arm.

"Ow!" Rowena gently rubbed at the red mark on her pale forearm. "Helga," she whined.

"Serves you right what with saying those horrible things about Harry! He's a sweet person. Maybe a little mischievous, but he wouldn't harm a thing."

Rowena sighed and dropped the issue. "Let's go ask Harold himself if the goat was actually needed and why he didn't use it if it was needed."

-----

Harry blinked, and turned his head to the side. "I didn't want to kill it." Helga beamed at him and Rowena's jaw dropped in disbelief.

"WHAT?" Salazar screamed from behind him.

Harry winced when he felt Salazar's thin fingers wrap around his shoulders and shake him. "Salazar," he whined when the other man finally stopped shaking him.

"You made me leave out a necessary part of the ritual all because you didn't want to kill a bloody goat? I could have permanently erased your existence from this Earth! I could have killed myself and Helga on accident!" Salazar was screaming by now.

Harry shrank back against the wall as Salazar advanced on him. He thought he was whimpering, but couldn't be sure. He looked to the side to where the other three founders were and found them gone. Evidently an angry Salazar was something to worry about. "Now Salazar," he started.

"Shut up you fool man." Salazar demanded, his voice reigned in tightly. "Where is the damn book?"

Harry gulped, feeling the angry heat radiating from the other man soaking through his robes. He shivered, for an entirely different reason than fear. "I'll go get it." He whispered, his eyes wide as he scuttled by Salazar quick as he could.

Salazar's eyes narrowed as he stared at the hunched form of Harry as he rushed out of the room. He leaned against the wall that he had had Harold trapped against moments before. "You're powerful. I'll make no qualms about that, but God you're so _stupid_ sometimes." He muttered.

Harry sagged against the wall in relief. He'd never hid the fact from anyone in his time that he was gay. "Queer as a three-pound note," Hermione had once said. Him and Dean were the only two that got it. He'd told no one in this time because he was positive that homosexuals were persecuted heavily. He'd just gotten his body back. He didn't want to lose it this quick. Regardless of his knowledge, that did not prevent his body from reacting to a situation where he was in close contact with an extremely attractive man. Even if said man was pissed off at him. "The book said the goat wasn't necessary," he mumbled as he peered at the bookshelf, looking for his book amongst Salazar's tomes.

Him and Salazar shared quarters. Rowena had said because they both liked the dungeons and because she thought they had grown fond of each other. Salazar had scoffed at her and left to clearly mark where Harry was permitted to be in the rooms they shared. Harry spent most of his time avoiding the other man. God only knew what Salazar would do to him if evidence of how far this supposed fondness for each other had grown. "Got it," he mumbled, grabbing the black book and tugging it from place. Another book promptly fell out and landed on his head with a heavy thud and fell open to the floor, screaming. "I swear I didn't mean to!" he shouted when Salazar came storming into the room.

Salazar heard a thud and was already moving when the screaming started. "Damn book," he muttered as he swept into the room. He stopped in the doorway as he watched Harold make shushing motions toward the book, rubbing his head and clutching the book he had been looking for under his arm. Smothering his amusement he swept into the room only for Harold to shout over the screaming that he hadn't meant to do anything. He walked over to the book and kicked it shut before picking it up. "That works better." He solemnly informed the short man without looking at him.

Harry stopped rubbing his head mid-rub and stared at Salazar. "Is that a sense of humor I'm sensing?"

"Don't push it."

"Right," he hastily grinned.

"Your hand is still on your head." Salazar calmly informed him, plucking said hand from off Harold's head.

"Um, here's the book." Harry shoved the book at Salazar.

"I think I preferred you as a ghost. At least then you weren't a hazard to have around." Salazar mumbled as he turned the pages swiftly.

"The book said the goat wasn't necessary." Harry stubbornly said.

"We'll see about that." Salazar bit out. He finally found the ritual and began reading through it. He paused for a moment before looking up at Harry. "You realize this is a book that dark lords would kill for, yes?"

"Yeah," he looked expectantly at Salazar.

"The rituals were designed to help the dark lords amplify their magic as well as return to a body and implement their power in it if they were ever killed or horribly maimed." Salazar breathed harshly. "Usually a weak witch, the spouse of the dark lord, would perform the ritual. She would be the sacrifice that the "optional" goat was for." he ground out.

"Huh?"

"You still don't get it?" Salazar demanded. He pinched the bridge of his nose harshly, his finger tips turning white as well as the skin of his nose as he applied more and more pressure.

"Helga's right! You are going to break your nose! Stop!" Harry demanded, moving closer and pulling Salazar's hand forcefully away from his face.

"You fool man! You could have killed me if i had been weaker. The caster was meant to be a sacrifice so their blood could be used to fill the veins of the body! Not to mention some type of damnable bond was created because the SPOUSE of the receiver of the ritual was to perform the ritual. But I'm to bloody powerful for the spell to have drained me." Salazar practically screamed the word spouse at Harry. He was pacing

Harry blinked and followed the movement. Where was Salazar reading all this? "Where are you getting this information?"

Salazar stopped and stared. "What are you talking about? Right here." He pointed at a blank spot on the page.

"There's nothing there."

"Yes there is." His voice was terse.

"Give the book and I will read to you what I see." Harry grabbed the book and Salazar and using his finger to trace the words he read. He read the whole page. Nothing about a spouse or bond or anything left his lips. Just the fact that the goat was not necessary.

"This is impossible."

"What is?"

"The whole damn thing." He hissed angrily. Harry backed up quickly, eyes wide when Salazar turned on him, eyes blazing. "I have no idea what the repercussions of this are, but you've screwed things up."

"I did what the book said!" Harry insisted. He understood why Salazar was mad, but why was he taking this out on Harry when he had just done what he had read out the book. "Excuse me for not wanting to kill an animal if I didn't have to!"

"Get out of my rooms until I figure out what the hell you have to me and to yourself. GET OUT!" Salazar screamed, ignoring Harry's words.

-----

A/N: you all probably want to shoot me. But you should've known that:

I suck at updates

I suck at not leaving cliffies

I always have to have a tension of some sort!

Yeah…I think you all can see just for the record how long it took me. But I'll put here at the bottom anyway because I promised and because I deserve a little shame for the long wait. So yeah…4/19. Took me 6 months give or take…I'm a horrible person. Well, I'm gonna go and get a start on a new chapter for ID. Hopefully that'll be up in a few weeks. But you all know how terrible I am when it comes to updating. Just know I'm not dead.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: i'm not dead!! i swear!! you can even poke me if you want! the chapter isn't long no. it's actually feebley short. but it's still an update. more of a getting back in the swing of things chapter than anything else. there are a few things that have moved a bit though in the means of plot.

--

"I did what the book said!" Harry insisted. He understood why Salazar was mad, but why was he taking this out on Harry when he had just done what he had read out the book. "Excuse me for not wanting to kill an animal if I didn't have to!"

"Get out of my rooms until I figure out what the hell you have to me and to yourself. GET OUT!" Salazar screamed, ignoring Harry's words.

--

"What has he done to me? What the hell has that idiot done to me?" Salazar paced restlessly, an ugly snarl marring his handsome features. "The book obviously has something to do with this whole ordeal. I just don't know what!" He barked out an angry sound and threw the book open on the table. "The blood of the caster is supposed to replenish the blood of the dead body." he mumbled. He stoped suddenly, a stray though crossing his mind. "The bodies usually used are months or years old...shriveled and drained of their fluids...this one wasn't...the blood of the caster wasn't needed then!" he spat out in amazement. "So that means..." he frowned. "I don't know what it means dammit."

"Salazar!" Harry burst into the room.

"What?" he hissed, angry violet eyes narrowing. They then widened almost impossibly large once he'd had a proper look at Harry. "What have you done to yourself this time?"

Harry was glowing a bright gold color, the color where his heart would be, black. "I don't know what I did! I was in the chamber using magic. Trying to see if the whole death magic would wear off. It didn't just for the record. But then a hideous looking rat bit me! I got pissed off at it and sent a tickling charm at it. Well the curse hit it, and turned green, but it didn't die! It ran off squealing!" Harry was breathless by now, his eyes bright. "I got the idea to rebound a stunner onto me and when I did, it turned green on impact and this happened! I just now woke up. I stunned myself!"

Salazar stared, shocked at the pure unadulterated idiocy the man in front of him possessed. "You don't have a damned clue if there's any type of connection between the two of us due to the damn book you just had to get that ritual out of, and now you're casting magic that looks like death magic at yourself! You imbecile! Are you trying to kill us both?" Salazar shouted. Harry grumbled slightly and turned to leave. "You aren't going anywhere because now I realize the need to babysit you constantly!" Salazar hissed as he grabbed hold of the smaller man and drug him into the room completley.

"Hey! Come on Sal!" Harry cried out when Salazar threw him roughly onto the sofa.

Salazar paused, eyes narrowing further. "What did you call me?"

Harry stared wide-eyed at him. "Sal..."

"Don't ever call me that again." and he slammed the door to his bedroom shut, leaving Harry wide-eyed and confused on his sofa in the sitting room.


End file.
